Monday, December 13, 2021

Today someone opened a box of darkness
and threw the contents all over me.
It got into my eyes and teeth,
and drowned my mind
'til I could hardly breathe.
Now I peel the scabs from my eyes
and drain the dark into ink.
I swim and swim
and wash away with words,
the shower of pain,
the burnt offering
the incense smoke
the fragrant coffee steam
and rain

the soot in the rain
runs down my face -
shut the box -
light a candle,
I see you,
I see you,
trying to make a better world.

Saturday, November 27, 2021

early morning meditation,
in the dark,
except for a single candle;
and from a streetlight, shining through the window:
a window covered in raindrops,
each a lens;
each a star,
or lenticular galaxy;
just a streak of rain;
just beauty in the dark

Saturday, October 2, 2021

staying still and focusing on my breath,
not chasing happiness
but rather letting peace find me

Sunday, September 12, 2021

sometimes I feel lost,
a spell of disorientation,
that I have learnt can be survived.
I breathe and recollect myself,
then take the next step.

Sunday, September 5, 2021

I am angry with the ocean
because it does not love me.
It rises and falls
and the waves break on the shore,
ignoring me; regardless, I walk alone.

Saturday, July 24, 2021

there is a darkness in me
that looks to you for light
but that is an illusion
and I must nurture my own self
and appreciate me (for being me)

I must dive in the river
and swim in sunlight,
washing myself clean.
Breathe in the early morning light
and exhale my blues and delusions.
The Siren song I imagine eats at me
yet the cancer in my mind
can be controlled.
It will always remain, I believe,
and I will feel the gravity and orbit
you silently.
I cannot entirely break free
but I can swim in the river.
The phases of the moon.
The dance of photons from Andromeda.
Distant stars.
Stellar objects.

Thursday, June 17, 2021

my mind is falling
through the tumbling/turbulent water.
It swirls and swings until,
hitting the riverbed,
it begins to settle,
away from the storm above.
My thoughts begin to clear
and I find peace.

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

my heart breaks
and I give away the pieces
wrapped in ink

when the darkness comes
acknowledge it but do not live in it.
The night will pass.

I feel the undertow pulling at me
and I must swim,
I must feel.
The pain is an old acquaintance:
we are not in love.
The water flows over my skin
and I feel isolated and the touch of panic.
I swim on: fighting, experiencing;
and the water flows over my skin.
I am alive.

Tuesday, April 6, 2021

The pitting of micro meteorites
Erodes the first footsteps
On the conquered moon -
We turned inwards
With a fresh perspective
Of our blue marble.
We cannot wait to find
Peace in our inner space.
The silent Cosmos calls
For life.
Fulfillment is in doing.

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

Bon Voyage strangers
I pass you in the street
Never to see you again
And sometimes I wonder
About your fate
Your journey
Not even a brief encounter
Just a slight proximity
You have dreams and fears,
Hatreds and loves.
Thousands of people.
Passing orbits,
Bon Voyage.
I remember a friend
I have not seen
Since she said goodbye
I'm lost
I'm lost
Bon Voyage

Tuesday, February 2, 2021

when the crushing darkness comes
scream, weep (if you can)
slowly fold your broken soul
into a semblance,
a resemblance of composure
and walk, meditate,
reach out to friends
and and and
the folded slices
together with air
and and and
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and the raging suicide of pain
and and and

Monday, February 1, 2021

I am the candle flame
I shall be a grain of sand on the beach
I am the wave, the process
inanimate matter before
alive for a sparkle of time
then diffused
a scattering

Sunday, January 31, 2021

I enjoyed my swim
I closed my eyes and floated
in the pool inside my mind.
Breathing, luxuriating
or just watching a candle burn
seeing the light, seeing the shadows.
My holiday for today.